Bad Blood Panther (Bad Blood Shifters Book 4) Page 6

  Huh. A sense of humor. Who knew?

  Xander snorted. “That’s fucked,” he said. “Is that why you wanted to leave? So you don’t have to be part of that asshat’s harem?” He said the word like it tasted bad.

  She shook her head. “He hasn’t paid attention to me in a long time.” Not since her pregnancy with Brandon started to show, and he could point it out to everyone as proof of his virility. Then he’d dumped her for more desirable mates. Prettier, unscarred ones.

  “Lucky you,” Xander muttered.

  She added, not looking at either of them, “I’m low status and not valuable, because of my scar.” She touched her face reflexively. “And because, well, I’m not brave and I get social anxiety, so I’m not sought after as a breeder because they think I won’t make brave warriors.” Her only value was being Brandon’s mother, and now that he was so close to not being a baby anymore, they’d take him away from her and raise him to be a killer. And she would be expendable.

  Xander was growling low in his throat. She looked over at him, startled. “That’s just fucking stupid,” he said.

  Some of the shame lifted from her heart when she heard him say that.

  “But you still think Raines might be coming after you,” Flynn said. “Why?”

  “Alton and his followers want to ‘restore our clan to glory,’” she said, making more air quotes on that last part. “They want to prove how badass they are. With teeth and claws. They deliberately incited war between Broken Hill and practically every other shifter clan within a hundred miles.”

  Flynn said, “What the fuck was your alpha doing while all this was going on?”

  “They were careful to make it look like they weren’t the ones doing it, at first,” she said. “He didn’t realize how bad it was until too late. By then, we’d won some battles, and everybody was hyped up on victory and blood lust. Alton got their animals all riled up, until they couldn’t think straight. Rhett tried to shut him down, but most of the clan supported Alton by that time. He challenged Rhett for alpha, and he killed him.”

  “Shit,” Xander muttered. “That sucks. Rhett was a decent guy, even if he was a panther in disguise.”

  “Yeah, he was,” Jenny said quietly, fighting back the tears. She’d liked Rhett, and respected him. “So were most of the other warriors that Alton led to their deaths.”

  She looked up at Flynn. “They started losing after that,” she said. “Alton is a messed-up egomaniac who doesn’t give a damn if everybody has enough to eat and decent shelter and medical care, as long as his cronies are telling him how fucking awesome he is. He’s ignoring the businesses, profits are down, and the clan compound is practically falling apart. A third of our strongest warriors have been killed. And nobody will stand up and stop it! The more they lose, the more they feel like winning another battle is the only thing that will get their pride back. So they just keep fighting. They’ll keep fighting until they’re all dead, and the clan dies with them.”

  Flynn was studying her, his dark eyes opaque. It was impossible to figure out what he was thinking.

  “Alton hates to be defied,” she said, dropping her eyes. “And he can’t afford to look weak, especially right now. He might come after me as a matter of pride, to make an example of me.”

  That was partly true, anyway. It was the most she could give them right now.

  Flynn snorted. “If you’re like every other Bad Blood mate, somebody’s sure as shit after you,” he said.

  “True,” Xander said. “It’s like a thing. Can I kill him, when he comes?”

  “Sure,” Flynn said. So casual. But he sounded like he meant it. Jenny shivered.

  “So what exactly are you looking for here?” Flynn said to Jenny. “If you think we’re going to get involved in your internal clan issues, forget it. If you’re hoping Xander will go back there and throw his life away for your clan, that’s his choice, but it would be a damn stupid one.”

  “No fucking way,” Xander said.

  “No,” Jenny said. There was no way she was going back. She had to get Brandon out of there. “I was hoping…” She took a deep, calming breath. “If things worked out here, I was hoping to maybe join the Bad Blood Crew.”

  There was silence.

  “Shit,” Flynn said finally. “Broken Hill must really be fucked if we look like a better choice.” He gazed at her, and she felt like he could see right through her—and he knew she wasn’t telling him the whole story.

  “Normally, I would say no,” he said. “We’ve had our share of trouble. We’re due for a break.”

  Jenny’s heart sank.

  “But,” he went on, “if you and Xander turn out to have a genuine bond, I’ll accept you into the crew. If you don’t, but Xander decides he still wants you here, I’ll consider it.”

  Xander was looking off into the distance now, out the big windows. She couldn’t read his face. Did he want her to stay here? Or not? She wished he’d say something.

  Flynn said, “Also, we’re not a wealthy crew, so I expect the members to work. Got any skills?”

  The quick subject change threw her. “Um, waitressing, office admin, accounting,” she said. “That’s pretty much it.” She was best at being a mom, but it seemed like that wasn’t valuable anywhere she went.

  Flynn tilted his head. “The crew runs a construction company. Bearcat Construction. We could use a bookkeeper—Lissa’s overworked as it is, and Tank and I hate that shit. Maybe we’ll try you and see how it goes.”

  Hope bloomed inside her. Flynn was offering her a job—sort of. But…it all rested on Xander. She looked at him hopefully.

  He still didn’t say anything. Now he was gazing down at the stapler in his hand, frowning. She suddenly felt like this was going badly, and she didn’t know what she’d said wrong.

  She also felt guilty. Flynn was being decent to her, and she was keeping things from him. She should tell him about Brandon. But she should tell Xander first, and she had no idea what he wanted now. The mating bond should have made things easier, but it had just made them more complicated. And the longer she kept Brandon from him, the harder it would be when she told him.

  Flynn said, “As far as Raines is concerned—”

  He was interrupted by the roar of a bear from outside. Not the forest-shaking, deep-throated roar of a grizzly, so it must be Lissa.

  “Fuck,” Flynn muttered. “I thought she was settling down.”

  “At least it’s not me this time,” Xander said.

  Flynn just gave him a black look and started down the stairs. “We’re done here, for the moment,” he called back over his shoulder. As he continued on, Jenny heard him mutter, “Because one fucking crisis isn’t enough for a Sunday.”

  Jenny followed him down the stairs and out to the front porch. Lissa and Jasmin were in animal form, rolling around on the open lawn in front of the cabin. Brody paced the sidelines, human, but growling. His eyes had gone a strange silver color.

  Sloan and Tank, also Changed, patrolled the edges of the fight. It looked like they were keeping the combatants away from the parked vehicles and the fire pit, but not doing anything to stop it.

  Flynn stood on the porch, arms folded, watching. Jenny watched too, biting the back of her hand. At Broken Hill, panthers weren’t allowed to just brawl anywhere. They had regular sparring matches to burn off their excess energy and aggression—at least, they had until they started going into battle so often. Formal challenges took place in the arena, according to special rules.

  This was terrifying. She couldn’t bring Brandon into a place like this, where he could get crushed or mauled at any time, when someone lost control.

  Why wasn’t Flynn doing anything?

  The black bear writhed and twisted, and brought her jaws down on the jaguar’s forepaw. Jasmin gave an ear-shattering yowl, and Brody shifted to wolf, bursting out of his clothes.

  “Enough already!” Flynn bellowed. Finally. Alpha dominance rolled off him in waves, and everyone froze.
He strode out into the yard. “Change back!”

  Everyone Changed back except Lissa, who backed away from Flynn, snarling. “I mean it!” he said, walking right up to her and staring her down.

  Holy fuck. He was in human form, and she was at least as big as he was, with enormous claws. It didn’t seem to faze Flynn at all.

  Jasmin was holding her right arm with her left. “Dammit, Lissa! You broke my arm!”

  Lissa Changed back. “Shit,” she said, holding her head between her hands. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  Brody shook his head and knelt by Jasmin, feeling her arm bones. “It’s not bad. Ready?” Jasmin nodded. Brody yanked the bones back into place. Jasmin yelped.

  “I’ll splint it up,” he said. “You’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

  “That’s not going to help me tonight at the fucking restaurant,” she said. “How the hell am I supposed to cook with a half-healed break?”

  “I’m sorry,” Lissa said again. “Fucking bear. Fucking Brother Damien. Dammit!” She stomped off in the direction of her cabin.

  “Do they do that all the time?” Jenny murmured to Xander.

  “Usually it’s me,” he said. “But I was busy.”

  “But you all just…brawl like that? On the front lawn? And Flynn doesn’t punish you?”

  Flynn was checking Jasmin’s injuries, but apparently his hearing was sharp enough for him to have picked up that remark. “If I punished these idiots every time one of them lost control, they’d all be grounded for life,” he said. “Which isn’t a bad idea, come to think of it.”

  “Aaaand, it’s Douche Daddy,” Xander muttered. “Next he’ll be taking away the car keys and making us clean the garage.”

  Jenny flinched. Was he crazy, mouthing off to an angry alpha like that?

  Flynn just rolled his eyes. “Don’t tempt me,” he said.

  He returned to the porch, and gave Jenny one of those opaque looks that still scared her. “This isn’t the fucking panther suburbia you’re used to,” he said. “We aren’t any of us totally sane. Most of us were fucked up to start with, which is why we ended up in Alexander Grant’s lab. Because we didn’t have anyone to back us up or keep us safe. Then he fucked us up some more.”

  He added, “They’re all doing the best they can, and brawling takes the edge off. If you think you’re too good for this shit, you know where the exit sign is.” He walked into the house.

  That stung. She didn’t think she was too good for anybody. All her life she’d felt like she wasn’t good enough. If it was just her, it wouldn’t matter so much. She’d had fight training like everybody else—she could hold her own.

  But she couldn’t take chances with Brandon. Not with her little boy.

  Chapter 10

  Xander felt like he was going to jump out of his skin. Too much shit had happened this morning. Finding out his panther thought Jenny was their mate. That kiss.

  The feelings that it gave him—wanting to feed her and bring her coffee and shit. Just the way she smiled at him when he remembered how she liked her coffee made him go all squishy inside.

  He hated it. This fucking urge to make her happy all the time, when he knew he couldn’t.

  When she maybe even didn’t deserve it.

  Because what was all that upstairs in Flynn’s office, about how she just wanted to get away from Alton and the way he was running Broken Hill into the ground?

  Like Xander gave even one fuck about the Broken Hill Clan.

  What he cared about was that Jenny had only tracked him down when she wanted something.

  Munching on his stupid damned glitter rabbit, letting him kiss her—all that. She was just using him. Because why else would she come here, and snuggle up to him like he was some romantic hero?

  Hell no. He wasn’t going to let her set him and his panther up for that kind of epic failure.

  Half the crew had paraded up onto the porch. Brody and Caitlyn were splinting up Jaz’s arm. Tank was hovering, stuck between staying and making sure Jaz was all right, and going after Lissa because he never could handle it when she was upset.

  Maybe being mated wasn’t quite so awesome as he’d imagined it to be. Despite the constant supply of sex.

  Jenny was watching it all, still looking all judgy and shit. Like they were some kind of monsters. Well, they were.

  This is what you’re signing up for, Babe. Sure you want in?

  “Come on,” he said, tugging on her arm. “You and I have some talking to do.”

  She pulled back. “Aren’t you going to see if Jasmin is okay?”

  “She’s fine,” he said gruffly. “It pisses her off if everybody crowds around making cooing noises. Come on.”

  Jenny looked hurt and upset, which stabbed him in the heart, which pissed him off more. At least she followed him. He led her down a path into the woods—the one that led to the cliff where Sloan had almost died, like, half a dozen times. He hated the place just for that, which was why he was going there.

  He didn’t want to have this conversation in some place he liked, and then never want to go back there again.

  He didn’t make it all the way to the cliff, though. Everything was too pent up, and he had to get it out. He stopped and faced Jenny.

  “Why did you really come here?” he demanded. “What do you want from me?”

  She flinched and took a step back, looking shocked. His panther didn’t like scaring her, but Xander didn’t care right now. This was important.

  “I—I told you,” she said. “Broken Hill is a wreck. I need someplace to go. You were the only person I could think of…”

  “It’s been almost three years, Jenny,” he said. “Three fucking years. Cindi ripped my whole life away with one bite, and the rest of you just stood by and let her do it.”

  He took a step toward her, and she backed away again. “And then I had this crazy animal in me. I didn’t even know shifters existed, and suddenly this panther is raging out of me, and I can’t control it.”

  He raked his fingers through his hair. He’d tried for so long not to think about this, not to let it really sink in, but she was bringing it all back. Damn her.

  “Do you have any idea what it was like?” he asked. “Like being possessed by a demon. I lost my job, because I couldn’t control my temper. I couldn’t control my Changes. I loved that job.”

  He’d been the assistant manager of a sporting goods store. Maybe not the apex of everybody’s dreams, but he’d loved camping and hiking and kayaking and all that shit, and he loved figuring out ways to get more people into it, making sure they had the right equipment. Getting kids and families outside instead of staring at their fucking screens all day.

  Her friends had taken that away. And so much more.

  “I lost my family,” he said in a low voice. “I tried to go see my parents. I tried to tell them what happened to me, and I couldn’t handle it. I lost my shit and put my father up against the wall. I almost killed him. I haven’t seen them since. I was too scared, and then I was too ashamed. And then I learned that if I told them about my panther, they could get their memories blurred, or even get killed by the Council.”

  He shook his head. “So there I am, no family, no friends, no job. Changing half a dozen times a day, trying to drink myself into oblivion in between. I ripped up my entire apartment, and almost went through the fucking wall and killed my neighbor when his music was too loud.”

  She put her hand out as if to touch him, but he couldn’t deal with that. Not now. “I had to keep moving from motel to motel after that. Picking ones with cinder block walls so I couldn’t smash through. Hoping I didn’t break down the door and run out and kill somebody.”

  “I didn’t know all that,” she said. “Not until—”

  “Nope. You didn’t know. Nobody helped me. None of your goddamn crew fucking gave me the time of day. Except Cindi, and seeing her just made me crazier. How the hell could you all do that—let her put this monster in me and then leave me on my
own?”

  The remembered feelings sledgehammered into him, the force of them almost bringing him to his knees. The rage, the terror, the awful, crippling sense of abandonment and isolation.

  Jenny was just staring at him, her eyes wide, her face a mix of pity and horror.

  “Don’t fucking look at me like that!” he shouted. “You were supposed to be my friend. Why didn’t you try to help me?”

  Her face grew incredulous. “I did!” she said. “I did, and you didn’t care. You just left and you—”

  What the hell? “What are you talking about?”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You know what I’m talking about. When I found out what Cindi had done, I came to that motel. That last one you were in.”

  He shook his head. “You didn’t.”

  “Yes I did! It was called the Shady Acres and it had horrible mustard-yellow carpet, which I could barely see because the stuffing from the chair you destroyed was scattered all over it. I got your cat calmed down. I got you to take a shower, and eat. And then we—”

  He had no idea what the fuck she was talking about, and she obviously saw it on his face. She stared at him, looking stricken. “Oh, God,” she said, taking a step back. “You don’t even remember.”

  “Jenny, I was drunk for two weeks straight. My cat was taking over my brain like twelve times a day, and yammering at me the rest of the time like a demented Rain Man. All I remember is rage and destruction and wanting to kill people and thanking God I hadn’t. Except for Cindi. Really don’t think I would have regretted killing her.”

  “How can you not remember?” she whispered. “You made love to me, Alex. Right there in that ugly motel room—”

  Oh, fuck. Her words, the look on her face, ripped open the door to one of those places in his head he’d never planned to go again. Bits and pieces started coming back to him. A tiny interlude of sweetness and hope in the midst of his despair.

  “And then Cindi showed up,” he said slowly. “The two of you got into a fight…”